Tuck and Roll
by Running Up Fawn
Summary: J/S, FO2. Samantha needed to talk.


Title: Tuck and Roll

Author: Lauren / Running Up Fawn

Rating: Eh..PG, I suppose.

Disclaimer: Samantha and Jack? Not mine. The song "Be My Downfall", is Del Amitri's and therefore not mine either.

Author's Note: Another FO2 post-ep. This isn't really a songfic, but the last 5 italicized lines are from Del Amitri's "Be My Downfall", which is quite possibly the 'shippiest J/S song I have ever heard.

"What happened to you?"

  
Samantha turned in surprise at the voice, her dark eyes meeting the very large, very green orbs of the slender girl with whom she was sharing a hospital room. Samantha was mildly startled, because over the course of the two agonizingly slow and lonely days she had spent in the unfriendly hospital, the other girl hadn't spoken a word; she'd either been out of the room or sleeping. Her head was wrapped in white cloth, plastering curly dark hair to a pretty face marred by a large purple bruise, and her right arm was in a very large, bulky cast. Samantha had also heard the nurses tossing around terms like 'internal bleeding' and 'bruised spleen' and various other unpleasant medical jargon, causing Samantha to sympathize with the girl, and also inducing curiosity in her. The cynical, world weary side of Samantha thought abusive boyfriend, but she couldn't be sure.

  
"Well?" The girl prompted. She gestured vaguely to her own injuries. "I fell off my horse. Got thrown, actually...We were practicing jumps for a show and a damn wasp stung him. My horse, I mean. He went a little crazy, understandably. It was kind of my fault. I forgot to tuck and roll." She wrinkled her nose. "Of course, I hit one of the jumps, so it probably wouldn't have helped. Sometimes it doesn't, you know? The tuck and roll. It's supposed to weather the fall. It doesn't always." She smiled wryly at Samantha. "I'm Cait, by the way."

  
"Samantha," Sam responded, slightly bemused by the girl's forward attitude, and glad that she had been wrong about the cause of her injuries.

  
"So, what happened? To your leg," Cait clarified, as if there were some other injury Samantha didn't know about.

  
Samantha debated for a few seconds, wondering if she shouldn't make something up, create a story about a bad burn, or a car accident. Her leg was heavily wrapped; Cait would probably never know the difference. Still, there was something about the girl that made Samantha want to tell her the truth. There was something in Samantha, too, that _wanted_ to talk, to share and release some of the anxiety, the restlessness she still carried with her. So she did. Samantha told Cait about the bookstore, about Barry Mashburn and the other hostages (without using their names, of course), and about the gun, about the bullet tearing through her skin, the searing pain and then the utter numbness that followed. She tried to gloss over some of it, taming the story slightly, although Cait certainly wasn't disappointed.

  
"What then?" Cait asked eagerly. "How'd you get out?"

  
And this Samantha couldn't gloss over or rush through. Slowly, she made her way to the surface of the emotions that bubbled up inside of her when she thought back to the events leading up to her rescue. She told Cait about the sweltering heat in the bookstore, about how the air had seemed so hazy, thick, like it was wrapping her up, choking her. She told her about the voice cutting so easily through the smog that entrapted her, the strong, assured tone she knew so well, the lilting, slightly rough intonation that slipped inside her struggling heart and strengthened her very being. The words poured from Samantha, encouraged by the occasional widening of Cait's already large green eyes. Her voice shook slightly as she described to Cait the rumpled man entering the bookstore, his hair and shirt disheveled, his dark eyes almost wild as they scanned the small store. She told her about his hand on her forehead, cooling her, gentling her racing heart, relaxing her with his touch. A solitary tear fell as she remembered being called sweetheart, remembered hearing so much delivered in a single word. Samantha told Cait how she had been lifted up and then cradled like a child, held firmly yet gently against his chest, his arms steadying her as they left the store. She told the girl about being set softly down on the bench outside, as cool air enveloped her, dispelling the unbearable heat of the bookstore. She told Cait about his cheek, soft and warm under her touch, and about the promise in his eyes as well as his words as he assured her he would be back. Samantha told Cait about her hero.

  
She told her about Jack.

  
Cait was speechless for a few very long moments, her green eyes blinking back a few tears that threatened to spill over. Eventually, she found her voice.

  
"Wow. Just...wow. He must love you so much." Cait's face was full of awe. "And you love him." A beat, as Cait looked curiously at Samantha. "Do you love him?"

  
It was Samantha's turn to be speechless. She had never been asked that question before, not when 'him' meant Jack, and 'love' meant love, not a stupid crush or some kind of infatuation. And Cait didn't know that Jack was married, nor did she know that he had two little girls. To Cait, it was a very simple, straightforward question with a very simple, straightforward answer.   
Despite everything she knew that Cait didn't, it was just as simple for Samantha.

  
"Yeah." A grin spread slowly across her face, and in that moment, she allowed herself to forget the complications, the guilt, the uncertainty, and just revel in the love that, even after everything that happened, still overwhelmed her when she thought of Jack. "Yeah, I do."

  
"What's it like? Love, I mean." Cait looked at her eagerly.

  
"It's like..." Samantha tried to think of some way that would allow the girl to understand. "You know when you nail a jump? A high one, for the first time? And it's a little bumpy, a little rough, because it's new, and you get thrown around a little, but you don't really notice that because you're still soaring, and your heart is still racing and you've got this kind of giddiness inside you that's just dying to bubble over? And along with the giddiness there's this kind of tranquility, too, and a deep, real contentment. You know? " 

  
A broad smile from Cait. "Oh yeah."

  
"That's what it's like. Looking at him, that's what it's like."

  
At that moment, a nurse entered the room, ready to wheel Cait to see her doctor. As she was leaving, Samantha smiled at her gratefully. "Thanks for listening." And she meant it.  
A nod and a grin from Cait, and the girl was gone, leaving Samantha alone with her thoughts. Thoughts that now didn't seem so heavy, so burdensome, and Sam recalled something Cait had said earlier.

  
'_The tuck and roll. It's supposed to weather the fall. It doesn't always_.'

  
Cait was right, Samantha knew. There had been no weathering her own fall; it had been hard and fast, and she could still feel it. And in some strange way, that was alright with Samantha. Because along with the pain, the constant ache it caused inside of her, there was also the giddiness she told Cait about, and a deep, unfailing affection for Jack, a feeling she wouldn't trade for any other in the world. Maybe she'd forgotten to tuck and roll, maybe it wouldn't have made a difference. Whatever the case, Sam decided as she settled back into the hospital bed, despite the pain, she wouldn't have her fall any other way.  
  
_Be the one girl that I'll never forget   
Be my undoing   
Be my slow road to ruin tonight   
  
_Through the glass window, Jack watched her, watched her as she talked to the girl in the bed next to her, her hands moving as she illustrated some important point in whatever it was she was talking about. He couldn't hear her, but judging by the emotions that crossed her pale face, Jack was pretty sure he knew what she was saying. It was the second night, the second night he had come here to see her and had stopped just short of walking through the door into her room. He couldn't explain it, couldn't rationalize why he had stayed outside, just watching her, when he wanted so much to talk to her, to feel the glow of her smile and touch her soft skin. Something held him back, held her just out of his reach. But until he could get past it, Jack would stay here, keeping his steady watch over her. 

  
He didn't know how long it would take.

  
He didn't care.

  
Tonight, just like every night, she was his downfall.  
_  
In another situation I could put up a fight   
But you will be my downfall tonight..  
  
_[end]_  
  
_


End file.
